Forgiveness
by killed in solitude
Summary: Edward has left Bella and she is broken. If she had the opportunity to become a vampire 8 years later, would she take it? Oneshot. Not a very good summary...


**Author's Note: This is really my first posted fanfic so I'd appreciate pointers and opinions. Critiques are always welcome and are greatly appreciated as well, perhaps more so than nicer comments as they tend to help more. Please let me know what you think. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: The following story is based on _Twilight_, _New Moon_, and _Eclipse_, the works of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended, this story is intended for entertainment purposes only.**

* * *

Forgiveness

By killed in solitude

The doorbell rang yet again, and still I couldn't muster the strength or will to answer it. My eyes had a glazed look to them, and I stared at a dark stain on the ceiling as I had since Charlie had passed away. It was agony to think of him, to think of _both_ of them, and I was already emotionally and physically weak.

The chime of the doorbell and knocking ceased abruptly, the visitor finally giving up hope. The sound of a key twisting slowly in the lock was followed shortly by the creaking of the heavy door pushed open. I stared on, unaware that the footsteps headed towards me were only a few feet away now.

Charlie was on my mind again, memories of the short time I'd spent with him seemed to be playing on a loop. It was only now, when it was far too late, that I realized how much I'd really loved him though we had had such a limited amount of time together. He was my father for twenty years, but I'd only really known him for three of them.

The only emotion I'd allowed myself to feel was guilt; grief and sorrow were too painful, and would be felt for _him_ as well. It was my fault he'd died. It had torn him apart to see me broken after _he_ had left. I had thought at the time my zombie act had had him fooled, and it was too late that I noticed the effect I'd had on him, the irreversible damage I'd caused. Not long after my twentieth birthday I'd been forced to organize and attend my father's funeral.

"Bella please, you have to snap out of this!" I heard the loud voice from my left, incapable even of flinching at the harsh tone, at the desperation of his resonant voice. I slid my gaze toward the newcomer silently, knowing who would be standing there. Anguish had taken over as the dominant emotion in his expression, so much unlike the mask _he_ had always worn. I was grateful for his loyalty through my pain and struggles the last eight years, but I didn't want to tear him apart too. He was strong, but I didn't want to hurt him more than necessary, especially now. I tried to convince myself that pushing him away was necessary, for both of us.

I was brought back to reality when he set a plate of food on the table beside me. He did this everyday, stopping by on the way home from the station and making my dinner. He usually wouldn't leave until I'd finished it, knowing that it was the only thing I ate all day. He was unaware however that I could barely keep even that meager amount down, and often I couldn't.

"Eat, Bella," he said in a commanding tone. His voice softened a bit, "you're so thin, I can see your bones beneath your skin."

He was right, of course. I looked unbelievably unhealthy, I was surprised Jake hadn't tried to force me to go to see a doctor, but then again he knew I'd refuse. It seemed as though he didn't notice anything else, my weight and depression seemed to be his only worries. I was thin, that much was true; my bones protruded from underneath my skin, which had paled to the point of translucency. My eyes had become dull and lifeless, and beneath them dark purple bruises had become more pronounced. I was weak too, barely able to lift a fork to my mouth without my hand shaking uncontrollably. I was frequently physically sick, whether I'd eaten or not, and suffered severe fits of coughs. I couldn't even retain my own body heat anymore, forced to wear sweaters constantly and employ the use of blankets. Jake seemed to be blind to it all, however, focusing on my appetite, or lack thereof.

"Jake," I whispered, my voice cracking from lack of use, "you can't do this anymore."

He looked shocked, hurt, and confused, not comprehending my meaning. I struggled to take a deep breath, which was extremely painful. I needed to break it to him gently, I didn't want to hurt to him too much, or let him think I wasn't grateful. I wanted so badly to reveal my secret to him, but he cling to me tighter when what I really needed most was to be let go. It would be better this way, or so I hoped.

"You can't always take care of me. What about Liz? I know she can't be happy about the time you spend with me."

He was angry, I should have expected that. I had hit him below the belt metaphorically speaking. Liz was the first girl he'd dated since he met me and they had been dating or over two years. There was no way she hadn't realized by now that Jake still loved me, as even I could see it. I knew she had jealous tendencies too, and the fact that he hadn't told me anything about her recently did not serve to quell my fears. Jake _had_ been spending a lot more time with me the last few weeks, now that I thought about it. Part of me was jealous of Liz too, but I knew I couldn't give him what he wanted, what he needed the way Liz could. I was damaged goods, my soul mangled, never to be whole again.

"You can't just lie here for the next fifty years waiting for him! _Edward_," he sneered his name as I flinched, "is never coming back for you!" Noticing my reaction to the name he grew angrier beginning to shake.

"I won't be able to wait that long, not now," I whispered in a voice that was barely audible. I looked up at him and he seemed to be torn between anger and confusion; I couldn't tell conclusively whether he had heard or not.

"How can you still love him after what he's done to you?" He yelled in disbelief.

My retort was quiet, and to my own ears cold and harsh. "How can _you_ still love _me_?" Jake's eyes widened in surprise. "Don't pretend you don't understand a small part of what I'm feeling."

He remained silent, but I could see the pain in his eyes. I didn't want to hurt him more, but it was the only way. He would find out soon enough, but by then it would be too late. I was doing the right thing wasn't I? Keeping myself home and comfortable was _my_ choice, but Jake wouldn't be happy about it.

"Please Jake, focus on the rest of your life right now, you don't want to wake up one day and realize you have nothing left. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I did that to you."

Jake's uncontrollable tremors had gotten steadily worse as I spoke, and by the end of my plea he had run off, unwilling to hurt me. I cursed under my breath, I knew he'd be back later, and I'd probably end up hurting him.

I really was a masochist. I insisted on tearing apart what was left of my heart by protecting the one person who'd kept me semi-together. The flimsy wall I'd built around my memories crumbled, spilling my most agonizing first. Words, voices, images, all painful, raged through my head, like a river that had been held back by a dam and just been released. I broke down again, tears streaming down my cheeks. I wished for a reprieve, death perhaps, or unconsciousness, anything to numb the pain, to reduce my suffering.

* * *

I awoke to a pitch black house, and instantly sensed that the power was out. The rain that smashed ruthlessly against the roof and windows panes hinted as to why. The thunder boomed again, and was followed shortly by a blinding flash of lightening. In the glare created by the brief seconds of illumination I glimpsed a pair of golden eyes lurking in the room's corner. Too numb to be afraid I sat up, albeit with great difficulty, greeting the intruder. I remembered when I'd been told once about my apparent lack of a self-preservation instinct.

"Hello." My voice was little more than a whisper though it was rough and callous. I knew they would hear; the eyes I saw could not have belonged to any human.

"Observant as ever, dearest Bella" a lyrical velveteen voice answered. It was familiar, but distorted by the pain and sadness in the undertone. I wouldn't allow myself to search my memories for the voice I could never force myself to forget, though I'd tried. I remained silent and still eyes closed in a feeble attempt to repress the flow of memories.

"Bella?" The voice came from directly in front of me, and a heavenly scent wafted gently to my nostrils. I stiffened, clenching my teeth and ceased breathing. I needed to shut it all out, or it would be even more painful when he left again.

"I knew he'd come back for his little human sometime," chimed an unfamiliar voice to my left. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I have to admit I'm quite disappointed, I had hoped he would have changed his pet by now."

I felt the atmosphere change as Edward shifted into a protective stance before me, snarling wildly. "Aro," he growled menacingly. Had I the ability to feel, I may have been a little frightened. The crimson eyed vampire chuckled, amused by Edward's behavior.

Both vampires were visibly shocked when I spoke, even more so by my apparent calmness and knowledge of the situation. "Edward, I can handle this. Go to the mansion, and refrain from eavesdropping, through the mind or otherwise." He looked about to protest, but he must have heard the authoritative confidence embedded in my tone because he disappeared without a word.

* * *

Edward returned an hour later, by which time Aro was log gone. It had taken me less than ten minutes to persuade Aro to bend the rules this once, and to convince him that I had accepted my fate. Though I stared straight ahead I could feel his quizzical gaze. Years ago I would have shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, but I had become an empty shell, a shadow of my former self, devoid of all emotion. It was something that even his presence could not mend.

My angel knelt before me, his face no more than a few inches away. He gently lifted my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes, searching for something hidden within mine. He seemed unable to find whatever he was looking for. His gaze shifted and he looked me over for the first tie, taking in my disheveled appearance. I knew what he would see, and I knew that if still cared at all it would break his dead heart. I assumed he cared, although perhaps guilt had spurred him to try and protect me from Aro. He had left without much of a fight.

"What have I done to you? Alice was right, I never should have left," he whispered, and a single salty tear carved a path down my cheek. "I promise I'll never leave you again!" The desperation and sincerity in his voice were heartbreaking, and a few more droplets escaped my tear ducts.

"You won't have to," I breathed. He frowned, puzzled by my words.

"I'll do anything, Bella. I'll change you if that's what you want! Neither of us has been able to move on… I think we really are soul mates." His plea caused me to sob uncontrollably, drowning in sorrow. I clutched at my breast, the pain in my heart becoming momentarily unbearable.

"It's too late," I barely choked out.

"No Bella, I can do it…"

"It's too late Edward," I repeated, "I'm twenty-six years old, and you will be eternally seventeen. It's too late for me." Edward seemed about to argue, but I silenced him quickly, "I can't." He wouldn't give up that easily, though I saw a pang of hurt in his topaz orbs.

"What of the Volturi? They will kill you if you are not turned!" He asked, confident that he had won. I gave him a slow, sad smile.

"Aro and I have made an agreement."

He was genuinely shocked. "How could you have swayed his decision when I could not?" His disbelief and awe at my capabilities may have been mildly amusing had I not been so frail.

The pain in my chest returned full force, the pain increasing exponentially as my heart beat fell out of its regular rhythm. I tried not to notice the irregularity as I gritted my teeth at the pain, as well as in preparation for my response.

"I simply… told him… of the… cancer." I gasped for breath every few words. "I'll pass on… by the end… of the… week. If… my heart… were not… so weak… I'd have… a few… more weeks. It'll… just… give… out soon." Although _I_ had accepted my fate, my angel had not and was quite distraught, disappearing promptly, presumably to calm down and think.

My short speech had drained the little energy that remained, and I leaned back against the couch. It was agony as my heart sputtered, fighting to retain its rhythm, it failed and my heart beat slowed. I could no longer see, but I did not care. I heard a heavenly voice declare his love for me for the last time, and I, expending my last breath and the reserves of my energy replied softly, "I… love… you… too…"


End file.
